I understand
by Mirai4
Summary: - From Zhang Zheng Xi's POV of how their relationship moves onto the next level. - Rating MA. A little smutty. Includes his reflections and thought processes. Jian Yi May be a little OOC. Written from my imagination. Style of writing prioritises effect rather than form. Characters are not mine; they belong to the 19 Days world, created by Old Xian.


He is kissing me.

Lips, unbelievably soft.

His breath, feels warm and shallow.

I sense that it is as if he is trying to be gentle - tentative... he is nervous.

Jian Yi isn't fooling around today.

I allow it to happen. He is certain in his resolve to approach me, and I don't question or resist.

The atmosphere is still; calm. Neither of us defensive or passing it off as a joke.

Maybe I am curious too; but really, I find myself rather unable to think.

He moves his lips slowly, as if nibbling gently. Warm, cushiony-soft...

I respond, licking his lips and mine.

My focus is — interrupted, when he gasps for a little breath - his lips quivering slightly... almost pulling away.

I find myself leaning into him. Reconnecting us.

I come to notice his hand that has been gently cupping my cheek... it is trembling. Cold fingers fluttering delicately against my cheek.

I close my eyes. That's enough -

My hand reaches for his, clasping it in mine.

And just like that, I am kissing him back. Moist lips electrifyingly slippery and conductive.

I feel him tense without resisting as I reach to his lower back, pulling him in against me with my other arm.

Our warm, firm bodies melt against one another.

This warm, radiating heat... I am drawn to him. I want to breathe him in.

He smells good.

His hair, soft and silky... pungent with pheromones and that sweet musky smell that always seems to accompany him. Heady... it plays with my senses.

It is as if something has triggered in us; stirred up - the atmosphere thickens, enveloping us in it.

Our breathing has quickened and the kiss is sloppy, slippery... natural. I'm feeling his hands in mine, still slightly trembling - I am rubbing his fingers, his palm... feeling the texture of his skin.

Soft. Bony. Slender. Strong, yet delicate...

His cold hands are gently warming up again in mine.

We pull away for a moment.

He gazes at my lips, and looks at me with hooded eyes; face, flushed; hair, soft and ruffled.

He is hungry... and I can't get enough of him.

Hands, reaching. Grasping. Clasping at each other's faces, hair... he clings onto my shoulders and we pull each other close, not know who is leading or following.

I don't really know what is happening, but my skin, scalp, neck... wherever he touches feels alight with fire and jolts of electricity. His firm, soft yet sinewy body - I can't seem to get enough of.

That smooth tofu-like skin... delicate... I shrug off that thought.

Sensations drowning out my narrative; so many things I don't quite understand, but I know I want more... more. Of him.

I hear him make a little sound in response to a nibble on his ear.

He is quivering under my breath and tongue dancing against his delicate skin. In an instant, my body reacts to him.

All my questions were somehow answered.

Reservations obliterated.

How foolish I must have been... of course it would be possible with him.

It's him. Him.

My instincts kick in. I want him.

How did wanting to protect him become what this is...?

Possession? Me?

He whimpers at my touch.

This intensity shifts to a strong certainty.

We both want this.

When you love someone, you change.

I've changed.

There are thin lines separating longing, love, lust...

Everything makes sense now... he is mine.

He wants me; needs me; has me.

There are no more lines.

He is wiggling, writhing against me. I understand this feeling - as if there is no such thing as "close enough".

A heat is spreading through me; with a strong pull, I draw him into my lap. Our hips are aligned. I feel him as he shudders when our crotches rubs against one another's.

Almost immediately, he reacts; I witness his face flushing a shade further and the gasp with a soft moan as he slowly rides and rubs against me.

It feels good. So very good. Our eyes are locked, and I know he is just as sucked into my hooded eyes as I am in his.

It is like a dance of shifting weights; our eyes close into kisses, and reopen with a flutter to absorb the others' affirming gaze. Our firm bodies rubbing against each other - hands, searching endlessly - touching what feels familiar but new at the same time.

We are both hungry for that sense of release, a climax, with each other - but the lack of experience makes us clumsy.

His expressions; I have never known he was capable of making - stir me up so much, my mind is foggy.

It is as if all my buttons are being pressed at once. All I know is him.

And I want to make him feel good.

Just as I have this thought, he pulls away and stares at me for a second.

I find myself pushed down onto my back; him, still straddling my thighs.

He leans in over me; I receive his kiss and cup his face.

Jian Yi stretches his body out to lay on me; his weight feels just right.

My hands find themselves sliding through his hair and down his back... stopping at his buttocks.

He continues to kiss me; his body is grinding up against me.

I take this as an invitation. A squeeze; and I press him firmly against me, thrusting my hips up.

He moans and detaches from the kiss to gasp for air.

He breaks the silence in the air.

"XiXi..." it is like a plea.

His face is flushed and his eyes are hungry but bashful.

I feel myself losing my mind the to fog. I grab his face and kiss him.

The intensity returns for a minute.

I push off the floor briefly to shift our weights; slipping my hand between us and we find ourselves laying on our sides... i cup his penis from the outside of his trousers.

Jian Yi reacts immediately with a noise of surprise and a gasp, "XiXi... w-wha-".

I never did figure out what he was going to say, or protest, question, or acknowledge.

I pushed him down onto his back.

"Be quiet," my own voice surprises me with its thickness. He bites his lip and gently strokes my face.

A small sad smile appears.

"You don't have to force yourself," he whispers.

At that, I'm angry.

My hands pin his shoulders down and I stare into his eyes. He is hesitant. A little surprised.

I kiss him. Firm, this time.

Sliding towards his ear, "What did I say about being quiet?" I nibble on his earlobe, placing small kisses in between little licks, tasting him.

He draws a sharp intake of breath that comes out shaky. I feel him shiver.

"XiXi..." his voice, calling for me, is different.

Click.

I discover that he can really push my buttons.

I lean in to kiss him again; he is hungry in response.

Whatever hesitation there was must have turned into a wicked resolve.

He spins us around with a suddenness I always never seem to expect from him.

He pushes a kiss as he reaches to unbutton and unzip my jeans.

I clutch at his wrist instinctively; so loosely though, that he slips past this barrier almost immediately.

I reach down to his trousers to find he has beat me to it.

He looks up at me for a moment before closing his gaze.

I acknowledge it; kissing his cheek.

I slide my hand to cup the back of his head and hold him close against my forehead.

His deft and slender hands stroke us both, against one another. Rhythmic, sensuous.

It feels amazing, having his hardness against myself; I feel his shape and evidence of his desire very clearly despite the fabric being in the way.

I feel hot all over, my sweat prickling my skin; wherever he touches, threatens to send me over the edge.

His sighs and gasps ring in my ears. I open my eyes to peer at him; I can't help but stare.

What a sight to behold. Jian Yi is beautiful.

His body is sweaty. Glistening curves of his muscles enhanced by gentle shadows. Hair, softly swaying with droplets of perspiration.

Slight crimson staining his eyes and cheeks. Long and fair eyelashes.

His lips are parted; pink, moist and glossy from being kissed.

So wanton.

I look down. His button-up shirt sliding off his shoulders. His clavicles shimmering in the light of dusk.

There is a sudden urge to push him down; to strip him bare for me to indulge - to take him then and there - to hear his moans and gasps of pleasure in synchronous desire to my thrusts deep into him.

Ugh, that's got me dangerously close.

"Jian Yi," I call out without thinking. I realise I'm gasping too.

The bands of our respective underwear is pulled out of the way. Sensitive tips meet the cold air, only to glide against the firm and comforting warmth of the other.

Glistening precum has moistened us both. It is electrifying. Every touch and every stroke is enhanced.

"Ah-" he lets out a restrained whimper, and calls out my name, "Zhan...XiXi..." I feel him tense against me. I know he is nearing climax too.

I wrap my larger hand around his, gently quickening the pace, squeezing us at the tip with every stroke.

"Mmmph..." his breathing comes out shuddering. He did not expect that.

His soft whimpers become louder, as if leading me, as my guide, to the edge of our passion.

He calls my name softly, as if he is searching...

I confirm it, whispering his name back.

And he cums, shuddering and clinging to me, exposing his long neck. Breathing, erratic.

Mine chases his and I'm barely aware of when it ends, but our hands slide us gently together until it does.

His face is flushed, glowing with beautiful desire. I come to my senses.

His pulsating climax was more than enough to send me over; the view of him writhing in pleasure?

Emblazoned in my mind - highly flammable, easily ignited. Proceed with caution.

What has he done to me?

I kiss him.

Sweaty neck, and warm cheeks.

We both gradually catch our breath.

His arms loop loosely around my shoulders.

He looks at me, eyes still with a tinge of uncertainty.

I return his gaze silently.

Jian Yi leans his forehead against mine.

We sit there for a moment.

Our flys open. Pants, wet with semen; neither of us caring.

Another figurative door in our intertwined lives has been opened. So naturally.

Is this what happens when you're in love?

I recall his words to me that one night: "only towards you".

Exclusivity.

Only him. Only me.

I feel at ease.

Yes. This level of intimacy with him is possible after all.

He breaks the stillness with a little peck on my lips.

I let my awareness return to the room as I'm brought back from my thoughts.

He is almost downcast; I sense his worry building.

My lips betray me in a small smile.

Gently, I reach up.

Fingers stroking his face, brushing his sweat-tipped hair aside.

I invite him to look into my eyes.

He does.

He searches mine and reads me well.

His eyes begin to smile and tears well up slightly.

Such a crybaby.

I smoothed his tears away.

And kiss his forehead.

The message is loud and clear:

"I understand -

I love you too."


End file.
